


A Matter of Discipline

by andachippedcup



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Competition, Enemies to Lovers, Equestrian, F/M, Horses, Innuendo, Rivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup
Summary: Felicity and Oliver are Equestrian rivals, competing at some of the highest levels in the sport. Felicity takes it all very seriously - Oliver? A little less so. Felicity is a struggling scholarship case and Oliver is a pampered rich kid with connections. They're polar opposites but they each have plenty to learn from each other. When the biggest event of the season arrives, who will walk away with the blue ribbon?
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 65
Kudos: 217





	A Matter of Discipline

“I’m going to wring his neck, I swear,” Felicity huffed as she stormed down the shedrow, angrily snapping the buckle on her helmet into place. 

“While I don’t disagree that he would deserve it, maybe right now isn’t the best time to be contemplating murdering Oliver?” Alena offered hesitantly from behind her friend as Felicity drew up just short of the boxstall she was headed for. 

“...I thought murdering Oliver was  _ always _ a good idea?” Felicity queried with a quizzical tilt of her head and Alena paused to consider for a moment. 

“Well yes, it is- wait, I mean no! I mean,” she threw up her hands, clearly momentarily tongue tied and she took a breath. “Yes but also no. Yes, it’s always a good day to murder Oliver but maybe dwelling on that isn’t the best idea when you have to be in the saddle in,” here Alena paused and consulted her watch, “approximately  _ two hours? _ ” 

Felicity inhaled deeply and held her breath, shuttering her eyes as she did her level best to stave off her utter frustration. Alena was right - she needed to focus on the task at hand. Murdering Oliver  _ pompous ass  _ Queen would have to wait until  _ after  _ Felicity had finished competing in the Starling Meadows TDE. 

Felicity had been riding ever since she was little; when her mother had briefly dated a jockey, Felicity had gotten a few informal horseback riding lessons out of it and from the moment her butt hit the saddle, she was done for. After that, Felicity could do nothing but beg to go ride the ‘howsies’ and as easily as that, she had joined the ranks of a million other young, horse obsessed girls. Everything became horse-focused. Felicity was  _ fixated _ . 

She started saving up her allowance and doing odd jobs for neighbors to try and afford lessons, only to have her hopes dashed upon learning how expensive said lessons actually were. But thanks to her mother’s intercession, the owner of a local stable was persuaded to exchange labor for lessons - and so Felicity at the age of six began what would become a lifetime labor of love. She mucked stalls all week long in exchange for the opportunity to ride in lessons on the weekends. It was a messy, sweaty ordeal but Felicity never once complained. 

Looking back, she thought that even then, she’d known that where she belonged was on the back of a horse. 

Lessons had gotten a little harder to wrangle as she’d gotten older and more skilled but fortunately, Felicity’s  _ other  _ interests had come in handy. With her tech know-how, Felicity had designed software that could analyze a horse and rider’s movements in such a way as to improve performance. Riders that needed to shave precious seconds off of their time could have their performances analyzed and be shown where they were riding too wide or too slow, when they should collect their horse sooner or later, and so on and so forth. 

With her trusty software, Felicity was able to earn herself not only lesson time, but entry fees to local competitions. As she got older, she began to focus on eventing, enjoying the rigors that the discipline offered. Other equestrian disciplines were focused on one aspect alone but Eventing? Eventing was  _ three  _ in one, a triathlon not for the faint of heart - or skill. Phase One: Dressage, all precision and essentially the ballet of the horse world; beautiful but rigorous. Phase Two: Cross-country. A test of the physical prowess of both horse and rider, and of the bond between them. Fast paced and bordering on reckless with no margins for error, it required horse and rider to barrel through the countryside at top speed. And Phase Three: Jumping. A test of a rider’s technical skill and athleticism as well as heart, as horse and rider hurled themselves over obstacles taller than Felicity herself. 

Eventing was intense. And half the time (or more) it terrified her. But Felicity loved the thrill of it, loved the fact that Eventing required a rider to have such deep faith in their horse, and that it tested a rider on so many levels. It challenged her - and she loved a good challenge.

Which was how Felicity had found herself on the competition circuit in Nevada, thanks to some generous trainers paying her entrance fees and putting her up on various mounts. She won some, she lost more. But she gained her bearings and by the time she went away to college at MIT, Felicity had begun to come into her own as a rider. 

College proved a difficult time for her, however. Riding competitively demanded hours in the saddle - but MIT demanded plenty of hours too. She split her time as best as she was able, using every school break as an opportunity to pour herself back into her passion for riding. And an added benefit? She was able to tinker with her program, fine tune it, and she started finding new applications for it. Analyzing a horse’s gait to catch changes in stride before small issues could blow up into bigger health concerns. And slowly, Felicity and her little program started gaining some buzz. 

So by the time she competed in the Boston Downs ODE she was perhaps a little rusty in her equitation skills - but her tech had never been sharper. After pulling some intense prep in the weeks after graduation, Felicity turned in a respectable performance - and managed to snag the red ribbon in the process. That alone had been a wildly surprising outcome, given that the Massachusetts circuit attracted a far higher caliber of rider than did the Nevada one - but that hadn’t been the end of the surprises. 

As Felicity had been cooling out her mount (a flashy chestnut Dutch Warmblood her trainer had been bringing along for a client), the crunch of boots had met her ears. Accustomed to busy stables, Felicity hadn’t thought anything of it and had continued walking the gelding, smoothing a palm over his withers as she got a sense for how he had come out of the arena. 

It was as she’d been tending to the horse that a gentle throat clearing had stolen her attention and she’d found herself face to face with a richly dressed blonde woman wearing a hat that looked like it belonged in the stands at the Derby. 

She’d introduced herself as Moira Queen and she’d commended Felicity on an excellent ride before she’d launched into her story. As if Felicity had needed to hear it - everyone who was anyone in the Equestrian world knew the Queen family name. Thea Queen was considered a rising star on the jump circuit and a sure bet for the US Olympic team when she was older. Her horse, Imsospeedy, was the son of a successful Thoroughbred racehorse and a renowned Irish Sport Horse eventer. The pair of them were proving formidable in competition and were racking up the wins. And Oliver Queen was the posterboy for sponsors; he had taken fourth at the Rolex Kentucky Three Day Event in 2017, had missed it due to injury in 2018, and had then placed second in the newly renamed event after narrowly being beaten by a rider from Great Britain in 2019. Rumor had it he was angling for a return to Kentucky this year, this time intent on taking first at all costs. He had countless ribbons and trophies to his name but he was notoriously difficult to work with and had chased off some of the best trainers in the sport. 

To be approached by the mother of those two dominant riders had shocked her but more shocking still was Moira Queen’s offer - to come and ride for the stable her children rode for, all expenses paid by the Queen family. And in exchange, Felicity would have to use her program to help hone the skills of both Queen children and their respective mounts. It had been a no brainer - this was the break Felicity had long hoped for but feared would never come. She’d agreed with barely restrained enthusiasm. So, Felicity had traded Cambridge for Starling. It was a move she was glad to have made, save for one, ever present thorn in her side.

And that thorn was named Oliver Queen. 

Felicity had very quickly learned that, especially at the high levels of competition, ambitions were high and the personalities cutthroat. But Oliver Queen was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. He liked to act very devil may care about the sport outside of the arena. He swaggered around like he owned the place (because well, his family  _ did  _ own the place) yet he frequently blew off training sessions. But when he actually showed up and got on a horse? He was sometimes so in the zone, so attuned to the horse, that it was sometimes like he and his horse were one.

_ Sometimes _ .

Sometimes he was just an ass and on more than one occasion he utterly wasted Felicity’s time, phoning in his riding if he was too hungover from partying or whatever other late night escapades he’d gotten up to. Felicity had left more than one training session with him, ready to pull out her hair. It was bad enough that he acted like he didn’t care about his own success. But for him to also throw hers into jeopardy? Well, it could really grind her gears. 

Case in point? Today. Day one of the three day event Felicity, Oliver, and the rest of the stable had been preparing for over the last few months since her arrival. A day of very high stakes for each rider personally and in Felicity’s case, a high stakes day for her  _ professionally _ as well. They were two hours out from the start of the dressage event and the class order for tomorrow’s events had just been posted, yet Oliver was nowhere to be found. 

Thus Felicity’s insistence on murdering him, over Alena’s gentle protests. 

Alena had proven to be one rider at the stable that Felicity could view as not just a client but as a friend. A perfectionist, Alena’s discipline was Equitation, where her technical mind excelled. She rode a handsome bay Oldenburg gelding named Ultimate Helix and though she came from a modestly wealthy background, she was far less loaded than most of the stable’s riders and therefore, willing to ‘slum it’ hanging with Felicity, a fact which Felicity very much appreciated. Especially at moments like this, where Alena could reel her back from the edge when Oliver’s stupidity set Felicity’s teeth on edge and all of her rational thinking fled in the face of her rage. 

“You’re right, Alena. I can murder him after the judge’s scores are posted,” Felicity sighed, deftly undoing the latch on the stall and stepping inside. 

The chestnut horse standing politely in the corner was a large animal, standing sixteen point two hands at his withers. As he caught sight of her, his head lifted, his ears swiveling towards her as he let out a soft whicker. Felicity smiled, her earlier frustrations dropping away as she stepped up to the horse she’d gotten so close to so fast. He dropped his head to her chest as she neared him and she couldn’t help but stroke his nose. He snuffled at her hands and after finding them empty of any sort of treats, he gave his head a toss with a snort of disapproval.

“I know, I don’t have any goodies. The nerve,” Felicity chuckled, scratching his poll the way she knew he liked. His barrel twitched and all at once, the gelding seemed to turn to putty beneath her hands. While his official name was ‘Highland Widget’, his barn name was Widget and Felicity utterly adored him. He came from a pretty prestigious line of Irish Sport Horses but because of some issues with his stride, the Queens had been ready to pack him off when Felicity and her software had managed to figure out the cause of the issue. A quick consultation with the farrier and some adjustments to his shoes and the horse was better than ever before. As thanks for her services, Felicity had been bringing him along ever since. He was by far the most expensive horse she’d ever ridden (probably equal in cost to a semester at MIT) and he had wiggled his way into her heart in record time. 

She just tried not to dwell on the fact that she was schooling him so that  _ Oliver  _ could come sweeping in and use him for his Olympic campaign for next year, if he won the Kentucky TDE. Which of course, he would. Because that was precisely the sort of aggravating thing that he would do. Put in minimal effort, then come sweeping in to take the blue ribbon. 

“But let’s not think about Oliver Queen today, huh Widget?” Felicity murmured, giving his forelock a playful toss before she slipped a bridle over him and led him out into the aisle and cross tied him. Running her hands over each of his legs in turn, Felicity felt carefully for any signs of warmth and, not finding them, she patted the horse fondly. 

“How’s he look?” Alena asked eagerly and Felicity flashed her friend a smile.

“Tip top. Are you serious about getting him ready for me?” Felicity queried nervously and Alena rolled her eyes and nodded. 

“Of course. I’m not going to let you miss the class just because you had to get Oliver’s horse ready since he couldn’t be bothered to get here in time to do it himself.” 

“You are a Goddess among women!” Felicity gushed before she hurried off down the aisle, Alena’s triumphant ‘ _ Don’t I know it!’ _ echoing behind her as she went. Ordinarily, Felicity never would have  _ dreamed  _ of turning the prep of her horse over to someone else, much less on the day of a competition. But seeing as Oliver was nowhere to be found, her job now depended on having his horse ready to go, even if he himself wasn’t. If Oliver showed up at the eleventh hour (which he would, she just  _ knew it)  _ and his horse wasn’t ready, he’d be disqualified. And in his mother’s eyes, the blame would not rest on his shoulders (though it ought to) - it would rest on  _ hers.  _

And there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell Felicity was going to lose her sweet new gig in Starling because of Oliver Queen and his bullshit. Moira had been kind to offer her the job, but Felicity was under no delusions - Moira wanted Felicity for her program and she’d been willing to cough up some serious cash to get her. But she wouldn’t keep Felicity around if she didn’t help Oliver to succeed. Even if his success cost Felicity her own.

It was hardly fair. Especially since Oliver had been ditching their lessons left and right lately and even when in attendance, had blown off most of her suggestions and just done as he pleased. The guy was positively infuriating. And if it weren’t for Alena? His antics today would have cost her the opportunity to compete.

Thank god for Alena. 

“Easy there boy,” Felicity soothed as she entered the corner boxstall. A rustle of movement and a flash of gray preceded a nervous whinny and Felicity sighed. Of course Oliver Queen would have the most high strung, temperamental horse in the stable.  _ Gambit de la Reine _ , or ‘Gambit’ as he was known, was a spirited dapple gray  Selle Français that had served Oliver well over the years, but his star was beginning to fade (thus the push to have Widget ready for Oliver by next season). Gambit was an animal that did well with predictability and routine - so having Felicity and not Oliver show up to prep him? It definitely wasn’t an ideal situation. 

Felicity did her level best to soothe the animal as she bridled him and walked him to the crossties, quickly preparing him for the coming event. She was able to temporarily lose herself in the rhythmic process of grooming the horse and plaiting his mane, reassuring him with gentle touches and the sound of her voice as she went. With twenty minutes to the start of the event, Oliver still hadn’t shown and Felicity was having a hard time suppressing her nerves - and Gambit’s. 

“I swear Alena, I am going to murder him and bury him in the compost heap,” Felicity grumbled through clenched teeth as she paced back and forth with Gambit, doing her best to keep the horse warmed up. Naturally, Oliver was the second rider in the class so if he  _ did  _ show up in time to compete, he would need Gambit warmed up and ready to roll. 

“Remember, Felicity. Murder later. Right now you need to be channeling your inner ballerina,” Alena reminded her as she walked out Widget and Felicity huffed but had to admit to herself that Alena was right. Ordinarily, Felicity prided herself on maintaining an almost zenlike state of calm on event day. But Oliver frakking Queen had a knack for obliterating her zen in the most thorough way possible with the utmost of ease. 

It was seven minutes to the start of the event when Felicity detected the familiar voice over the strains of the distant crowd and she felt her hands curl into fists around Gambit’s reins. 

Oliver was only half dressed for the event, with his boots and breeches on and some stupid tee. As he swaggered towards her and Alena, he flashed her a grin and made his way over. 

“Gambit! Hey pal,” Oliver crowed, engulfing the horse’s face in his hands. To Felicity’s shock, Gambit stood patiently for this and even seemed to relax some. Not bothering to dwell on it, Felicity shoved the horse’s reins into Oliver’s hands, nearly shaking with rage as she glared at him.

“He’s all tacked and warmed up for you,” Felicity informed him, turning her back on him quickly. “Not that you give a damn.” 

“Hold up!” Oliver interjected, darting in front of her with surprising speed. “Mind holding him while I finish getting dressed?” 

Felicity was quite confident that if looks could kill, the look she gave Oliver in that moment would have shriveled him up dead. Wordlessly, she took back Gambit’s reins. Seizing his opportunity, Oliver shrugged off his tee and Felicity did her level best not to look impressed by the  _ exquisite  _ set of abs she was faced with. Swallowing, she tried to keep stoic as Oliver pulled on his show shirt and coat, his fingers nimbly doing up the buttons himself. At the last, he pulled on his helmet and flashed her his trademark, million gigawatt smile. “How do I look?” 

“Like someone who showed up late and nearly made  _ me  _ miss  _ my  _ class because I was busy getting  _ your  _ horse ready for  _ you _ ,” Felicity growled, thrusting the reins back at him. “Try not to fall off your horse, will you? I’m sure your mother would be really unhappy with me if your first event with me consulting, you wound up on your ass.” 

He looked positively floored as she turned away from him but if he intended to rip into her over her antics, he was deprived the opportunity as his name was called over the loudspeaker, summoning him to the exercise ring. As Felicity stormed over towards Alena, she could see her friend’s eyes were wide as saucers but she simply put out a hand for Widget’s reins and wordlessly marched off, Alena flitting along behind her. 

“Did you really just tell off  _ Oliver Queen _ ?” Alena hissed in a whisper and Felicity felt a sudden wibble of anxiety. 

“Was I off base?” 

“Well,  _ no,  _ he totally deserved it but I’m not sure that was your best move career-wise,” Alena explained and Felicity could only swallow nervously. 

“Maybe not. But if he’s not going to take it seriously, he’s never going to win Kentucky. And if that’s why they brought me on, then my job is to make him understand that.” 

“Well if that’s your job, then I’d say you did some brilliant work back there. Did you see his face? I think his jaw was scraping the floor!” 

Felicity bit back a smile as she and Alena moved to watch from the wings as Oliver warmed up and then, after the first competitor exited the ring, Oliver entered it. With practised ease but less than his usual skill, he performed in front of the judges. Dressage was his weakest of the three events, Felicity knew. Largely because, in her opinion, he lacked discipline. Dressage required commitment. Granted, all the disciplines did. But dressage required a rider to know the test, to have it so committed to memory that they could ride it in their sleep. It required practicing the moves with your horse. And what’s more? It required precision. And Oliver was not a precision rider - he was a power rider. 

But what did she know? She was just the little computer girl who rode horses for his mom, as far as he was concerned. 

Oliver put in a respectable performance but as he exited the arena, Felicity could tell it hadn’t been his best and the scores from the judges had reflected it. While a 69.1 percent would have been plenty good in some circuits, it certainly was not blue ribbon worthy for the level at which they were currently competing. That meant Oliver was carrying 30.9 in penalty points going into tomorrow’s event and that was… not the best. It meant that unless the other riders all had bad rounds, Oliver was likely not presently in the top three (and maybe not even the top five). As only the second rider to enter the arena, Oliver’s hopes of a first in dressage had already been dashed. 

Felicity was finding it hard to feel at all sad for him. For one, because he hadn’t shown up until minutes before the event and for another? 

Because she was fifth up and she had to prepare herself. 

As she always did before entering the ring, Felicity attempted to clear her mind, pushing her stressors and worries out of the way. As she swung up into her saddle, she settled herself and let herself feel the horse beneath her. With her eyes closed, she channeled her energies into really connecting with Widget, feeling every contraction and relaxation of the half ton of muscles beneath her. 

In short order, Felicity had tuned out the rest of the word. And when it came time for her to ride into the arena, she did so without thought to the crowded stands. She was aware only of her horse beneath her, and the ring before her. 

And then? She collected Widget beneath her and she simply  _ rode _ . 

It was over in a heartbeat but when Felicity came to a clean halt at the end of her round, she felt a thrill of pride at how she and Widget had performed. And judging by the scores that came back, the judges agreed with her assessment. 

_ 75.9 percent.  _ Good lord, she’d bested Oliver by over six percentage points. Stunned, Felicity barely had the wherewithal to rein Widget out of the ring, she was so blown away by her percent score. She was in first place. She had only 24.1 penalty points against her going into tomorrow’s Cross Country event. Granted, there were still plenty more riders to go into the Dressage Arena but for now? Felicity was the one to beat.

Outside of the ring, she was mobbed by Alena, who couldn’t stop congratulating her. Numbly, Felicity walked Widget around and cooled him out. By the time he was back in his boxstall and Felicity had forced herself to eat something to settle her stomach, the last handful of riders were taking their turn in the ring - and Felicity was still comfortably leading the second place scorer by a solid three points. 

Her relief, however, was short lived. 

Moira Queen was more than a little icy towards Felicity when she arrived in the Queen stabling area that afternoon and she made a few pointed comments about the ‘pathetic state’ of Widget’s coat, as if to imply Felicity hadn’t brushed and curried the horse to a near perfect shine in the weeks leading up to the competition. And he was far from a ‘pathetic state’ - he was slim and trim and well toned and anyone with any sense of horse smarts would take one look at him and tell Moira Queen the same thing. 

“We call folks like that ‘sore losers’, buddy,” Felicity explained as she ran her hands over the horse later that evening, checking his legs for any signs of heat or swelling after his stellar performance. Thankfully, everything with Widget seemed to be in order, and the same was true of Gambit too. Felicity had quietly checked on the horse after her own Dressage performance, just to be sure that Oliver had properly cooled the horse off. He had - or else, whoever he’d pawned the horse off on had. Gambit seemed in good form and so Felicity left the stabling area content and convinced the horses were set for the evening. 

\-----

The second day of the event dawned overcast and muggy, with rumbles of distant thunder portending rain and all manner of misfortune. Felicity’s already ample nerves multiplied; the second stage of eventing, Cross Country, was always her weakest event. Hurtling around uneven terrain at top speed, taking tall jumps on tight turns and coming up or down hills? It felt reckless in the extreme and all the best technical riding in the world was sometimes not enough to combat a misstep or a jarring landing in the water. Cross Country was where Felicity had experienced some of her worst falls as a rider and it was a true test of a rider’s guts. 

Adding rain to the mix felt like a recipe for disaster. 

Oliver rode before her again today, though to her great relief he had the decency to show up and prepare Gambit himself, leaving Felicity free to croon at Widget as she prepped him for the competition. With tender loving care, she carefully wrapped his legs and tacked him up before presenting him to the judges and vets for inspection, an ordeal that lasted only briefly before Felicity was given the clear to ride him in the coming event. 

She had walked the course prior to the start of competition, getting a sense of the topography and the obstacles that would await her and seeing the course again now only reminded her of the intensity of the competition here in Starling. The jumps were high and wide, strategically placed for maximum difficulty at the top of hills and near the base of others. If she was to make it through without being eliminated, she would have to ride fast to meet the optimal time the course was scored for, and she would have to ride as cleanly as she could without Widget refusing to go over an obstacle. Patting the chestnut on the neck, Felicity was in the midst of murmuring reassuringly to him when she became aware of another rider on her left. 

“Well you two look cozy,” Oliver remarked and Felicity bit back a snarky remark as she lifted her gaze to his. “You sure he’s ready for this? He looks ready to fall asleep,” Oliver remarked and Felicity felt a twinge of anger at the implication. 

“Not everyone likes their horse to be a borderline neurotic ball of energy prior to competition,” Felicity remarked sweetly, only for Oliver to roll his shoulders before he patted Gambit heavily on the neck. 

“Maybe. But Widge looks half dead there, poor little guy,” Oliver chuckled and Felicity’s protective instincts kicked into overdrive. As, apparently, did her passive aggressive side. 

“Oliver, I know you’re a big fan of what’s between  _ your  _ legs but newsflash? Mine’s bigger. He’s not a poor little anything,” Felicity growled out, prompting Oliver’s brows to slope down into a steep frown. It was about then that she processed what he had taken her ‘between the legs’ comment to mean.

_ Of frak. _

“Not like  _ that _ !” Felicity narrowly managed to avoid sounding shrill as she rebuked him, wishing she could disappear as he eyeballed her with wide eyes. “I meant  _ the horse _ . Get your mind out of the gutter,” Felicity hissed at him, reining Widget away with a toss of her head. They’d gone no more than two steps from Oliver before she heard his voice calling out to her with a cocky lilt.

“You’re forgetting something, Felicity,” Oliver crowed and despite her better instincts, Felicity stopped Widget and half turned in her saddle to regard her nemesis. Because yes, she was deciding right now, he was her de facto nemesis. Her arch rival. The antagonist to her protagonist.

“And what would that be, Oliver?” 

As she watched, he tapped his heels to Gambit’s sides and the horse practically leapt forward, dancing in place as he drew near to Widget and Felicity again. “What’s between your legs? It belongs to  _ me _ ,” Oliver taunted, a smirk on his face and his eyes bright. 

Felicity felt as though she’d been physically slapped; her jaw tensed and she pressed her mouth shut for fear of what she might say in a fit of rage. Oliver was right. Widget  _ was  _ his - she was just a placeholder and a teacher, schooling the horse so he could be presented to Oliver as his horse for next season. 

Nearly swallowing her tongue to keep quiet, Felicity loosened her reins and urged Widget forward, leaving Oliver behind her as she fought to keep her cool. Damn him.  _ Damn him  _ reminding her that she was going to have to say goodbye to Widget and  _ damn him  _ for getting into her head right before competition  _ again _ . If she managed to stay in podium contention this competition, it would be a miracle of epic proportions given how persistent Oliver seemed to be in his torment of her.

She really detested him. Actually, ‘detest’ didn’t feel strong enough. She downright  _ despised  _ him. At least at this precise moment. 

Shaking off all thoughts of him, Felicity moved to ready herself and Widget at the start as the competition began to get underway. Oliver and the riders ahead of her in the event entered the starting enclosure and promptly took off, appropriately spaced out to allow time between riders. Oliver and Gambit were off like rockets and Felicity swallowed nervously as she checked the line of horses and riders ahead of her and Widget before she looked up to the sky again.

The weather didn’t look like it intended to hold. And as Felicity reined Widget to the starting area, the sky overhead opened up. She did her level best to ignore the deluge and instead looked between Widget’s ears at the course waiting before her. 

And then? She loosened her reins and leaned forward in the saddle to give Widget all the encouragement he needed as they went tearing away from the start and moved like a freight train towards the first obstacle. 

The course that followed had Felicity mentally screaming ‘ _ oh shit oh shit oh shit’  _ more than once. The heights of the obstacles were astounding - some were almost as tall as Felicity herself. But as the course was soaked from the rain, the sludgy footing added a new level of complexity to an already highly difficult course. And as she barreled towards the middle of the course, Felicity knew she was approaching a particular obstacle that, with the rain? She was now more than a little worried about.

The ditch was an easy enough jump in terms of technical skill. But the width of a ditch jump was where the difficulty came in. And the ditch jump she and Widget were headed towards next? It was some eleven feet wide - no easy feat. But even as she prepared herself accordingly, Felicity saw a scrap of red waving at her through the rain and to her dismay, one of the course officials came into view, drawing her up short.

“Sorry Miss! Delay ahead,” the official informed her and Felicity blew out a breath and nodded, doing her best to school her frustration. She and Widget were going to need plenty of speed and power to make it over the ditch - and they’d just been stopped short right before said obstacle. To say that it was a blow was an understatement. 

The delay lasted only briefly but as Felicity reined Widget back in line and collected him to resume, she felt the strain as they approached the jump. Resisting the urge to look down at the obstacle (one of the easiest mistakes to make and something that all riders learned not to do when beginning to jump), Felicity threw her heart over the ditch first and said a silent prayer she and her horse would follow.

They did, albeit narrowly. She could feel Widget lose his footing on the other side as the earth gave a bit beneath his weight, thanks to the rain and the heavy use from the riders that had come before them. The horse was off balance and for a few moments, Felicity wasn’t certain if Widget would keep his feet under him or send them both flying. But to her great relief, he managed to maintain his balance and they rode on for the next obstacle.

By the time they reached the finish, Felicity and Widget alike were soaked and mud splattered but mercifully, they had ridden a clean round and had been able to avoid elimination and injury. All things considered, Felicity felt that was as much as she could reasonably ask for. 

The results, to her surprise, weren’t terrible. Predictably, Oliver had taken first (this was, after all, his strongest event and he’d had the added advantage of starting  _ before  _ the rain. But Felicity had placed third in the event, which when paired with her dressage score of the day before, still left her in the lead. Oliver, having wound up in fourth place yesterday (after a few poor performances from other riders), was now not far behind her in third thanks to his performance in the cross country. 

So it would come down to the final day’s stadium jump to determine who would take home top honors. As Felicity cooled out Widget and inspected his legs thoroughly, she mentally tried to prepare herself. Complicating matters, however, were the stony looks she got from Moira Queen anytime she saw Felicity; it was obvious that Moira had not expected ‘the help’ to be a threat to her son’s campaign for Kentucky.

“Well, may the best rider take blue tomorrow, huh Widget?” Felicity sighed as she scratched behind his ear as she removed his bridle and put him back in his stall once cooled out. “I know you’ve got it in you to win tomorrow bud. I’ll just do my best not to mess you up; you’re the talent in this partnership,” Felicity beamed as she pressed a kiss to his nose and then scampered off to find Widget (and herself) something to eat. 

\-----

As Felicity warmed Widget up in the practice ring before the stadium jump, she ran through the mental map she had memorized of the jumping course. In her mind, she counted off how many strides Widget would need to take before each jump. She mentally tabulated where he should take off in order to successfully jump each obstacle and she pictured the two of them sailing over each jump cleanly and quickly, willing her vision to become reality. 

In Felicity’s experience? The mental prep before a jump off was where this leg of the event was won or lost, perhaps more so than any other leg of Eventing. And she, for one, had no intentions of entering that arena unprepared. She had walked the course earlier, counting the paces between each jump, her mind whirling as she did quick mental math.

The jumps were  _ tall _ . She knew several were the maximum allowed height and some were probably also the maximum width as well. The course was nothing to sneer at - it would be a true test of skill to get a clean round. And Felicity would have to do so quickly if she was to stand a chance of beating Oliver, who was renowned for his speed in this event. 

“ _ Number Five - Felicity Smoak aboard Highland Widget _ .” 

Hearing her name boom across the speakers, Felicity urged Widget forward as they rode into the ring and Felicity did her best to convey relaxation to Widget through her seat and through the reins. Yes, this was a competition. But she wanted her horse to have fun; Widget loved to jump and that was part of what made him such an excellent Eventing horse. As long as he enjoyed himself and they were both safe, no matter how today’s standings shook out, they were winners in her book. 

Careful to mind her flatwork, Felicity took a breath and began the course. She did her best to keep her eyes always focused on the next jump, riding forward and with confidence. As she did, she could feel Widget’s confidence grow with each stride and as they sailed over obstacle after obstacle, Felicity felt her heart soaring right along with Widget. 

The Oxer, the Combination, and the Verticals, Widget flew over with ease. But when they reached the Triple Bars, Felicity could feel that she had slightly mistimed asking Widget to jump. And as they flew through the air, she could hear the telltale sound of his hooves clipping one of the bars. Mentally, she chastised herself for not having estimated the distance better but almost as soon as the thought entered her brain, Felicity chased it off - she couldn’t go berating herself now. There was still the rest of the course to finish. Keeping her focus on the obstacle ahead, she put the mistake out of her mind and encouraged Widget to move with purpose and speed towards the final three obstacles. To her delight, they went clean over the last three and then and only then did Felicity allow herself to dwell on what had happened.

They had tapped one pole and based on the replay, it had momentarily seemed as though it would remain upright (and thereby incur no faults) but then it had tumbled, incurring 4 faults. It was a crushing blow, given how close they had been otherwise to a clean round. But the good news was, no one else had yet managed a clean round - the best anyone else had managed was 8 faults.. 

As she waited for the other riders to go, Felicity worked to cool Widget, riding him at a gentle pace in the exercise ring before she swung down from the saddle and loosened her girth a slot. Taking him by the reins, she walked him cool the rest of the way as she waited for the results to come in, though her focus was on her horse more than anything else. She was preparing to untack and bathe Widget when the final results came down.

Oliver had gone faster than her but he’d knocked two poles down in the process, incurring eight faults. No riders had gone clean, meaning that Felicity had… actually  _ won  _ the jump. 

Which meant she’d also won the whole damn event. 

She was reeling as she rode out with Widget to collect her ribbon and as she was presented the prize money it was all she could do not to cry. Felicity hadn’t imagined she’d walk away the winner today. She’d dreamed of it, certainly. But she’d not had any  _ real  _ hope of winning with Oliver also in the ring. Oliver ended up taking third, thanks to his earlier performances and as he eyed her on the podium, Felicity knew he was doing so with newfound, grudging respect. As they left the ring and returned to their respective mounts, Felicity got the sense that things had just shifted between her and Oliver.

She was no longer simply someone for him to tease and torment. Now she was his serious competition. Because by winning today? Felicity had just earned herself a berth at the Kentucky competition, now just a few months away. 

And she had every intention of entering it and giving Oliver a run for his money. 

\-----

Felicity had always envisioned that if she won a major competition (like the Starling Meadows TDE) that she would be walking on air for weeks or  _ months  _ afterward, enjoying the afterglow. But the afterglow lasted all of that night before the next morning, her cloud nine status evaporated into thin air. 

Felicity was overseeing the stable packing up to return to homebase. This meant making certain that every horse’s legs were wrapped and the horses were carefully loaded onto the trailer. Beside Gambit and Widget, the stable had had four other riders competing at other levels of competition, which meant Felicity had half a dozen horses to prep and load for transport. As the staff worked to get the horses home, Moira Queen herself appeared and threw Felicity for the worst kind of loop.

“Miss Smoak, just the woman I was hoping to find. I wanted to…  _ congratulate you  _ on your win yesterday,” Moira began with a false, honeyed tone that instantly set Felicity on edge.

“Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Queen,” Felicity returned nervously, hugging her clipboard to her chest as she waited for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m obviously  _ delighted  _ with the work you’ve done with Widget. He’s come along quite well, I’m sure you’d agree. And we both know how much a good horse can _ make  _ a good rider look great,” Moira intoned and Felicity felt a prickle of wounded pride at the obvious implication. Moira was trying to say that  _ Widget  _ was responsible for Felicity’s win, rather than because of Felicity’s skill as a rider. And yes, Widget was a fantastic horse and had certainly been her partner in the ring but they were precisely that - partners. And equally responsible for the win.

“-of course,” Felicity allowed weakly and Moira nodded as she stared Felicity down fiercely. 

“So then I think we can both agree, it’s in Oliver’s best interests to have him riding the best possible horse for Kentucky. So when we’re back at the stable, please see to it that Oliver’s training with Widget begins  _ immediately, _ ” Moira directed crisply, offering Felicity an ugly smile before she spun on her heel and marched away, leaving Felicity feeling sick.

Oliver was now riding Widget. Which left Felicity without a horse for the Kentucky event. And since Moira had rather pointedly not offered Felicity a replacement mount? She sensed she was being intentionally left without so that she would be unable to compete against Oliver. 

It was underhanded and unfair and unkind. But it was completely within Moira Queen’s rights as the owner of the horse and as Felicity’s boss. And so, Felicity left the Eventing grounds not with the joyous air of a victor, but with the heartbroken sorrow of shattered hopes and dreams. 

The next few days were an exercise in agony for Felicity. She called round several stables inquiring if there were any owners in need of a rider for their horses. But it seemed Moira had gotten the word out that she didn’t want Felicity competing because everyone, upon hearing her name, suddenly didn’t have a single horse available for her, regardless of her impressive recent wins. 

By the time she made it to her first training session with Oliver post competition, Felicity was simmering with rage that lurked just beneath the surface, ready and waiting to be unleashed. With practiced ease, she had tacked up Widget and warmed him up as she waited for Oliver to show up, her heart in her throat at the knowledge that these stolen moments of warm ups were all she would get from now on with Widget. But as minutes ticked by, Oliver was nowhere to be found. She called his cell phone and called the main house but she got no answer on his cell and the staff at the house said he’d gone out well over an hour ago but his car was still on property - so more than likely, so was Oliver. 

“Where are you, you good for nothing  _ little shit _ ,” Felicity hissed, angrily shoving her cell phone into her pocket. 

“This seems like a disproportionate amount of rage for him just missing a lesson,” Alena pointed out as she held Widget’s reins for Felicity. Scowling at her friend, Felicity stopped dead in her tracks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That maybe the  _ real  _ reason you’re upset is that you  _ like him _ and that’s why he gets under your skin so easily?” Alena supplied nonchalantly and Felicity found her hands curling into fists. 

“Alena, he is a man child in his twenties who still can’t grow a beard - or read a clock, apparently. I do not  _ like  _ him. I can barely tolerate him, if anything,” Felicity hissed scornfully. Swinging up into Widget’s saddle, Felicity rode off onto the expansive grounds to look for Oliver without another word on the subject, leaving Alena to her own devices.

Felicity found Oliver fifteen minutes later when the sounds of raised voices drew her attention to a distant patch of grass on the east side of the grounds. As Felicity rode through the trees and into a clearing, she found the obvious reason for Oliver’s lateness. 

He and a number of other guys were all running about on horseback, playing a rough game of polo. Even as she watched, Oliver raced down one of his competitors, moving with surprising finesse and precision as he attempted to score against the opposing team. Felicity allowed herself to be transfixed for all of a couple minutes before she remembered she was supposed to be training him right now - and he’d utterly blown off their training time. 

“Oliver Queen what the  _ hell  _ do you think you’re doing?!” Felicity shouted at him, drawing the entire field of men and their respective mounts to a screeching halt. “Your mother would  _ murder me  _ if she found out you were playing polo instead of practicing with me. Which is what we should have been doing for the last oh-” here she paused and checked her watch, “-half hour. Not that you give a damn about me, or your new horse. Or practicing,” Felicity glowered as she folded her arms before her chest irritably.

“Oh come on, Felicity. You of all people should appreciate the necessity of taking a break,” Oliver returned with a roll of his eyes and Felicity narrowed hers at him. 

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of having time to take a break, Oliver. I don’t expect you to understand.” 

“You’re right, I don’t understand.  _ Make  _ time.”

“Oh because it’s  _ that  _ easy?” Felicity retorted with heat and Oliver shrugged. 

“Yeah. It is.” 

“Get yourself to the practice arena  _ now _ . We’re going to review your performance at the event.” 

“No.” 

Felicity practically heard the record scratch in her head as his response processed and she would have sworn, her vision went red. 

“No?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper as she repeated his response.

“You heard me. No. I’m not going to practice until  _ after  _ you take a break and come play polo with us.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Then I’m absolutely not coming to practice,” Oliver returned with a shrug. Felicity shot him a look, wishing she could have laser vision to melt his stupid smug face.

“Fine. Get off your horse so I can ride.” 

“No,” Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “If you think I’m going to sit on the sidelines while you play polo, you’re nuts.” 

“Well I’m not riding your family’s  _ prized eventing horse  _ at a sheisty backyard polo game,” Felicity pointed out and Oliver nodded, conceding that much to her at least.

“Fair point. Tommy! Hop down for a minute so Felicity can trade you horses? She’s going to tag in for a minute,” Oliver directed. The man in question (who Felicity recognized as one of the top Hunter riders in the local circuit) reined his horse over immediately and swung down from the saddle in front of her, clearly waiting on her to do the same. Glaring daggers at Oliver, Felicity pointedly swung down from Widget’s saddle and swapped horses with Tommy, all the while her attention on Oliver. As she settled into the saddle of her new horse, she put a hand to her hip.

“Okay. I’m on the horse. Satisfied? What are the teams?” 

“Shirts versus skins,” Oliver returned simply and Felicity swallowed, suddenly realizing that Tommy had, in fact, been shirtless when he dismounted from his horse. 

“Well, I’m obviously not going to take Tommy’s place on his team because I’m definitely not going shirtless,” Felicity pointed out and Oliver smirked at her. 

“Oh come on Felicity, live a little.” 

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” Felicity replied and Oliver threw up a hand, chuckling as he tried to stop her.

“Fine! You don’t have to go shirtless. I’ll swap teams with you. But first I need to hear you say it.” 

“...Say what, Oliver?” 

“Say that you want me to be shirtless.”

“Oh go frak yourself, Oliver,” Felicity hissed, turning her horse as though to ride off. 

“You want me to practice? I want you to say it,” Oliver called at her as she turned her back on him and she and her horse fell still as she glowered. Finally, she closed her eyes and through gritted teeth, she gave in.

“Fine. I want you to be shirtless. Satisfied?” 

“Not by a long shot. But that’ll do for now,” Oliver remarked with a cocky grin. As she watched, He unclipped his helmet and then he deftly shrugged out of his shirt. Felicity did her level best not to pay any mind to his well toned body. And she definitely did not notice how sweaty he was, or how well defined his abs were. 

Definitely not. 

In short order they were playing and though Felicity considered herself an accomplished rider, she found herself rather outclassed by Oliver as he expertly rode his horse around her across the field, allowing the tiniest possible margins for error as they careened about at admittedly dangerous speeds. But try though she did, Felicity simply couldn’t shake him and she couldn’t outride him. 

By the time she had dismounted and given Tommy back his horse, Felicity had to grudgingly admit that polo was, perhaps, more of a game of skill than she had realized. And what’s more? It was actually admittedly good at practicing several of the skills she had wanted Oliver to work on honing. 

Damn him.

She was still standing on the ground, holding Widget’s reins when Oliver rode up to her and swung down from his horse in front of her. Distracted as she was, Felicity instinctively put out her hand to accept Oliver’s reins, by now accustomed to having to hold his horse for him during training sessions and the like. But as she put out her hand, her fingers met firm, warm flesh and with a start, Felicity realized she had just, for all intents and purposes, poked Oliver in his pec. 

His very firm, very sweaty pec. 

“I-I’m so sorry I thought you were giving me your reins,” Felicity stammered, wishing in that moment she could disappear. With another start, she realized she was, in fact,  _ still touching his chest.  _ Wrenching her hand away, she did her best to ignore the flood of heat rushing into her cheeks. 

“Felicity just admit you find me irresistible,” Oliver chortled and she felt her brows pull down into a lethal frown. 

“I find you  _ repulsive _ . Now get on Widget and get your ass back to the training arena. You’ve put me an hour behind schedule,” she groused, refusing to meet his gaze as she slapped Widget’s reins into his hands and quickly swung up onto the polo pony he’d been riding. 

Damn him. Damn Oliver Queen and his stupid pecs and his stupid polo and his stupid smug face. But she had to forget about it and move on. And the best way to do that was to pretend nothing had happened. Or so she told herself. 

“So tell me, Oliver. Where is that level of precision in your Dressage routine?” Felicity queried as Oliver took his time hopping up onto Widget. In her peripheral vision, she saw him shoot her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean I saw how you rode out there during that polo match. You weren’t looking around to see where you were - you  _ knew.  _ And you were incredibly accurate, which let you focus on other aspects of your riding. If you did that with your dressage routine, your scores would improve dramatically.” 

“Please elaborate.” 

“Dressage is geometry, among other things. So before you start a circle, think about how you’re going to use your aids to make that circle as perfectly round as you can. And always look at the letter you’re going towards while you’re on the short side. If you have precision and accuracy in your movements without having to look around, your geometry will be cleaner and your scores will be better.” 

Oliver looked at her, utterly dumbfounded as the two rode back to the training arena and Felicity could tell, everything she’d told him was news to him. 

“You got all that from watching me play  _ polo _ ?” Oliver said at last and Felicity snorted. 

“I got all that from watching you ride at the event last week  _ and  _ from watching you play polo, yes. If you put as much consideration into your riding as you do into your leisure, you’d be a more formidable opponent, Oliver.” 

“Formidable enough to kick your ass at Kentucky?” Oliver supplied cheekily and she sent him a look over her shoulder. 

“Yes, possibly.” 

That shut him up. 

\-----

The following weeks saw Oliver knuckle down and focus on his training in a way Felicity hadn’t seen him work since she’d started. He still goofed off far more than she would have preferred but he no longer blew off their sessions and he was actually heeding her advice. His dressage was showing radical improvement and her coaching about precision had clearly taken root - even his jumping was showing betterment because of it. Interestingly enough, he had also started growing out his stubble, a move which she was  _ certain  _ meant Alena had passed along Felicity’s criticism of his inability to grow a beard. 

She was gonna murder Alena for that. 

Besides Oliver, Felicity still worked on schooling the other riders in the stable; Thea was working towards a Grand Prix jumping competition - her first, now that she was old enough to compete in them. She and Felicity had been working on perfecting her strides between taller jumps because Felicity knew that the reduced distance between jumps often threw new competitors at the Grand Prix level. Alena was working towards an Equitation event a month down the road and she and Felicity were trying to iron out some of the wrinkles in Alena’s transitions between gaits so that they were as smooth as possible. Laurel had a Dressage event two months out and Felicity was trying to puzzle out how best to tell the woman that she was perhaps not yet ready for Grand Prix level Dressage; it was the wrong test for a rider such as Laurel. What’s more, Laurel  _ hated  _ to review her scores from the judges, which Felicity had found indispensable for self improvement in the Dressage world. 

The Queens were undoubtedly the most serious riders in the stable - Alena was serious about riding but only as a pastime - not as a career. And Laurel seemed more concerned with having the appearance of being serious than of actually being serious. She didn’t put in the practice that was required for true mastery. The perfect example of this presented itself one day when Felicity had interrupted the group of them all talking after they’d had free time for practice in the arena. Laurel had been boasting about how her horse’s name alone foreshadowed Laurel’s own great potential as a rider. 

“Her name is  _ Miss Prospecting _ . If that doesn’t indicate I have grand prospects, I don't know what does,” Laurel remarked proudly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she regarded her peers.

Clearing her throat, Felicity entered into the small grouping. “Laurel, ‘Prospecting’ refers to prospecting. As in gold digging. Your horse’s name basically translates to ‘Miss Gold Digger’, for lack of a better explanation,” Felicity pointed out, prompting snickers to break out across the circle. Laurel went scarlet, looking mad enough to burst until Oliver let out a particularly loud guffaw that drew Felicity’s attention.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?  _ You  _ keep calling Widget ‘Widge’, you know,” Felicity pointed out and Oliver’s brows raised.

“Yeah, so?” 

“That’s slang for ‘penis’, Oliver,” Felicity remarked simply and once more there was laughter as the circle enjoyed this new tidbit. “So maybe instead of worrying about names and what they do or don’t mean, maybe we worry about what we’re doing in the saddle because we could  _ all  _ use improvement there,” Felicity remarked and there were muttered agreements as the lot of them gathered their things and dispersed, save for Thea.

“Felicity, I was just wondering… I know you’ve been working on all of  _ our  _ riding but… have you given any thought to  _ your  _ situation?” Thea inquired softly and Felicity frowned.

“How do you mean?” 

“Felicity, you qualified for one of the most prestigious events in the sport and you don’t have a horse for it. Please don’t tell me you plan to miss out on Kentucky.” 

“Thea, you said it yourself, I don’t have a horse,” Felicity remarked, quickly busying herself cleaning some of the tack that Laurel had left out. 

“I... _ might  _ have a solution for that,” Thea offered nervously and Felicity froze, her heart racing at the implication.

“You know of a Grand Prix skilled horse for sale at a rock bottom price? Because Thea, I can’t afford what you and your brother can afford,” Felicity began, only for Thea to hold her hands aloft to stop her.

“I know, I know. Listen. The horse is a mess, she needs a lot of work. But I’ve seen her in action and I’m telling you, Felicity, my gut says she’s got what it takes. I don’t think she’s as hopeless as her owners seem to think she is but I haven’t said that to them. I think they’ll sell her for a song. What do you say?” Thea asked, clearly excited. Felicity bit her lip, considering what Thea was offering. 

She had a not insubstantial chunk of change from her win at the Meadows. But even a project horse, coupled with entry fees to Kentucky, would clean out her bank account. If she did this, she’d be putting all her eggs in a potentially faulty basket. But this horse might be her only shot to compete. And if she was anywhere near the top of the competition in Kentucky, she’d walk away with some money. Swallowing nervously, Felicity nodded. 

“Let’s go see a horse.” 

\-----

A week later, Felicity was beginning to regret having let Thea talk her into seeing the horse in question. Felicity’s instincts had echoed Thea’s; as she watched the mare be worked by a rider at the seller’s stable, Felicity had seen the problems that were prompting her owners to sell her. But she had also seen what Thea had seen: a great deal of untapped potential that just needed the right person to unleash it. 

The mare had cost a pretty penny by Felicity’s standards, although by show horse standards, she’d been a rock bottom steal. Staring at her now, Felicity still could hardly believe the mare was actually hers. 

Her registered name was Ghost Fox Goddess, but Felicity called her Ghost for short. She was a jet black Holsteiner mare with a gorgeous, wide blaze down her face, and tall stockings on her left front and hind right legs. And she was positively  _ gargantuan _ ; she stood an impressive 17.2 hands at the withers, making her easily the largest horse in the stable. She towered over Felicity, which made her more than a little intimidating to handle when she was worked up - and by nature, Ghost was a very high energy animal.

Her coat had been in poor condition and after consultation with a (very expensive) equine vet, Felicity had her on a diet that would apparently improve her coat. Ghost had a few bad barn manners that Felicity was working on, but the primary issue had been her behavior under saddle. It was obvious she’d had some bad schooling and needed retraining, as well as new shoes - much the same as Widget had needed. All told, there was a long list of things to work on with the mare but Felicity believed with time, with patience, and with a lot of work and a lot of love, everything about the mare was correctable. 

The problem was, time to work with her was in extremely short supply.

Once she’d learned of Felicity’s purchase, Moira Queen had begun to pile on more work, leaving Felicity with barely a moment to school her own mare. She was mucking stalls, teaching lessons, cleaning tack, talking to prospective boarders and riders - the whole nine yards. Her limited teaching duties had somehow morphed and Felicity was now working all day and having to stay up late to school Ghost.

She was working herself to the point of exhaustion, in truth. 

After another long day of lessons, Felicity had spread out a trunk of tack before her to oil - at Moira’s very specific request - when she sensed another presence in the stable. Glancing up, she was surprised to find Oliver, no longer dressed in his jodhpurs but now just in jeans and a tee. 

“Oliver? Did you forget something?” Felicity queried, only for him to walk up to her, putting his hand out expectantly. 

“Give me the oil,” he demanded and she frowned at him.

“If this is your idea of a joke, I’m not playing. I’m not oiling you up, I have work to do,” she remarked wearily, only for him to roll his eyes at her.

“This isn’t a joke. Give me the oil. I’m going to clean the tack - you’re going to go ride.” 

_ Huh?  _

“Is this some kind of trick? What, did you invite your mother down here so that she can see me riding and you doing my work so I’ll get fired and you won’t have me for competition in Kentucky?” Felicity asked with fatigue and Oliver made a strangled noise of frustration.

“Felicity, you give me entirely too much credit, I’m nowhere near that dastardly,” Oliver remarked, wiggling his fingers as he continued to demand the oil. “On the contrary, I’m here to make you go practice so that you can be in top form for Kentucky.  _ When  _ I beat you - and I will - I don’t want you to have any excuse for why you lost to me. I want you to be at your best. It’ll be much more fun to lord my win over you that way,” he added, though the usual sting was absent from his barbs. 

Felicity stared at him in surprise and then slowly, she passed over the can of tack oil. 

“You’re serious,” she confirmed and he huffed a sigh and nodded.

“Yes, Felicity. Now quit your yapping and get your ass in the saddle. If I’m going to clean all this for you, the least you can do is give me something to watch while I do it.” 

She eyed him warily for another minute and then she scampered off and quickly brushed and tacked up Ghost, feeling a thrill of excitement as she urged her mare out into the arena. In short order, she was taking the horse over the cavalettis, drilling down on the basics she wanted the horse and herself to have total command and mastery of. The entire time, she was keenly aware of Oliver watching them as he worked. And when she began to dismount to raise the jumps, he waved her off and did it for her. When she took the course at speed he stood by, his arms crossed as he observed her. 

“When you walk a cross country course, do you walk it backwards?” Oliver asked as Felicity reined up in front of him, patting Ghost’s neck as she did so.

“Backwards? No. Who does that?” Felicity snorted and Oliver quirked a brow at her.

“I do. It’s the best way to find the most direct route. How do you think I keep my times so low?”

“I just assumed you rode at top speed like a person with a death wish,” Felicity answered honestly before she could stop herself and this time Oliver snorted. 

“Not quite. I do ride fast, but I ride the most direct possible route and I find it by walking a course backwards. Look behind you all the way as you’re walking a course. You’ll be amazed at the perspective it gives you,” Oliver explained and Felicity blinked at him, surprised he was sharing such a valuable pearl of wisdom.

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Is that your way of saying thank you?” Oliver returned with a cheeky smile and Felicity blanched.

“I-I’m sorry. I mean yes, thank you. Obviously.” 

Oliver continued to smile at her before he reached over and patted Ghost’s neck, his eyes on Felicity all the while. “You helped me with my Dressage. The least I could do was return the favor. Like I said, I want to beat you at your best.” 

“But it’s my  _ job  _ to help you. You didn’t have to return the favor.” 

“I like to beat the best. That seems to be you. So I want you to bring your A-game. And you can’t do that if you don’t ever get the benefit of having someone else schooling  _ you _ for a change.” 

It was a surprisingly valid point, in all honesty. 

“Oh and by the way? I sing as I ride. Different songs to help me keep the right rhythm and tempo. Give it a try - it’ll help you stay in sync with your horse and if you play your cards right it’ll help you measure distances on the cross country course.” 

And with that, Oliver gave Ghost a final pat and walked away. But after that, he made a point of coming to the stable as she was finishing her lessons and then he would clean tack or muck stalls while she rode Ghost and put the mare through her paces. In this fashion, Felicity got the training time she so desperately needed  _ and  _ her work got done thanks to Oliver.

Time flew by. And though Felicity could have easily schooled with Ghost for years before being anywhere near ‘ready’ to take on the likes of Kentucky, she had to admit the mare was shaping up beautifully and thanks to the amount of work Felicity was able to put into her, combined with Ghost’s natural athleticism and poise, they were looking as good as they were likely to get as the Kentucky drew near.

On the day of final lessons before Kentucky, things were looking good in Felicity’s world. So naturally, Moira Queen had to show up and once more bring Felicity’s world  _ crashing  _ down.

Felicity had been on her lunch break, cramming a sandwich down her face when her boss had stepped into Felicity’s closet of an office without warning, prompting Felicity to nearly choke on her food. 

“Miss Smoak, there you are; I was hoping for a word?” 

Felicity spluttered as she attempted to swallow her food and after nearly choking, she finally nodded and wheezing, acknowledged the woman.

“M-Mrs. Queen. Yes, come in.” 

“I wanted to discuss Kentucky with you,” Moira explained simply and Felicity felt her stomach bottom out and bubble nervously. This...this couldn’t be good. And it wasn’t. 

“As you know, Oliver’s goal has been to win Kentucky for some time now. I believe he is poised to do that now - thanks to the horse and of course, you and your little program helping him improve.” 

Felicity did her best not to bristle at the words ‘little program’, as if her program wasn’t responsible for fixing Widget’s issues  _ and  _ for helping Oliver address his own flaws as a rider. But it wasn’t worth getting into it with Moira Queen over. 

“I think he stands an excellent chance,” Felicity agreed and Moira smiled at the blonde, though said smile felt rather dangerous.

“Yes… And I think we can both agree that training a champion like Oliver is rather demanding. One might say it requires a person’s full attention. So I really must insist that you focus  _ your  _ energies on training him - and not on preparing yourself for the event. I’m sure you understand how that could be seen as a conflict of interests. I see now that I can’t expect you to give him your best coaching when he is your very competition,” Moira explained and Felicity snapped. 

“I have  _ always  _ given Oliver my best coaching, regardless of whether or not he is competing against me. I have no interest in beating subpar riders, Mrs. Queen. I want to be the best and to do that I have to beat the best. I assure you, Oliver gets the same premium treatment as any of my students do. The fact that we’re rivals in the arena has no bearing on my professional treatment of him.” 

“I’m sure you think that but I still really must insist. If you ride in Kentucky and you beat Oliver, Miss Smoak, your job here will be forfeit,” Moira warned, glaring at Felicity before she showed herself out without another word, leaving Felicity spiraling. 

_ Frak.  _

She had no time to dwell on Moira’s threats, however - the next days were consumed with getting the horses loaded onto trailers and driven to the airport, where Felicity accompanied them by plane from Starling to Kentucky, where they were then trailered over to the competition grounds. As Felicity oversaw getting the horses settled, she did her best not to dwell on the ultimatum she’d been given. If she competed and won, she’d be out of a job. Heck, if she competed and lost, Moira might still fire her. But backing out now simply wasn’t an option. Felicity couldn’t stomach the idea of withdrawing herself and Ghost after all the work they’d put in. And then there was Oliver to consider. His voice rang in her ears.  _ I want to beat you at your best. _

_ He  _ wanted her to compete. And that alone ought to be reason enough for Moira to be fine with the current arrangement. Not to mention the obvious improvement in Oliver’s riding since Felicity had begun consulting. But if it wasn’t enough and she wasn’t trusted, what did she want to work for Moira Queen for then? Why bother working somewhere she was obviously underappreciated? 

She was going to compete, damn it. And if she won and got fired, so be it. She’d have the notoriety to get another stable to sign her on. She was certain of it. But of course, all of this hinged on her winning - which was no sure thing. 

As she bedded Ghost down in her stall for the night, Felicity patted the mare’s nose and twirled a piece of her mane around her finger. 

“I guess we’ll just have to win then, won’t we, Ghost?” 

\-----

Day one of competition dawned warm and muggy, with plenty of flies and various other bugs buzzing about the shedrow. Felicity noticed little though, too focused on preparing Ghost for the event at hand. The Dressage test was going to be a rigorous one; Felicity had reviewed it frontwards and backwards and practiced it in her head but even still, she felt the familiar, telltale butterflies in her stomach as she plaited Ghost’s mane and brushed and tacked the mare until she looked positively modelesque. 

This was a Grand Prix level event. This was going to be the stiffest competition they had ever faced. Felicity just hoped they were up to the challenge. Moira’s threat echoed through Felicity’s mind as she watched the first competitor enter the arena and begin their test and Felicity felt her stomach flip nervously.

“This is going to be a hell of a test,” a familiar voice muttered from behind her. Felicity turned to find Oliver standing at her left, Widget trailing along beside him. As he saw her looking at him, Oliver flashed her a grin. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you, Smoak.” 

Felicity offered a weak smile by way of answer, unable to formulate words for the force of her nerves. Met with silence after his teasing, Oliver’s features sloped into a frown and he stepped closer to her, his hand gently touching her elbow. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice and in his eyes seemed genuine, much to her surprise, and it shook Felicity out of her unsettled state enough to talk.

“I’m fine. Just concentrating.” 

“I’ve seen you concentrate. That just now was not it. What’s happened?” Oliver pressed and Felicity turned her gaze to the crowd, her eyes scanning for and soon finding Moira Queen in the stands. 

“There’s a lot at stake for me today, Oliver. I stand to lose more than just a ribbon,” Felicity offered cryptically and she felt his fingers curl around her elbow as he tried to draw her attention back to him.

“What does that mean, Felicity? I can help, if you let me.” 

She took a deep breath, then tore her eyes away from Moira and focused instead on him. “Don’t start going soft on me now, Queen,” she murmured, swallowing as his blue eyes bore into hers. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But if something is messing with your head, let me fix it.”

“My head and I are fine. So shut up and worry about going out there and riding your best. Because Ghost and I are planning on taking the blue.”

In response, he seemed to grit his teeth, almost irritated that she wasn’t telling him what was wrong. As if she could come right out and tell him that his mother had threatened her career if she won today. “Felicity, I can’t have you riding distracted. Where’s the fun in beating you then?” 

“Bold of you to assume you can beat me,” she returned with false confidence as she took a step away from him, forcing a smile as she moved to swing up into her saddle. Today, she was riding before Oliver in the Dressage test. And she needed to start warming Ghost up. 

“With my eyes closed,” Oliver commented after her, though she could tell he was still concerned even as she moved away. 

Felicity cleared her mind, reminding herself that she was capable of finding another job even if Moira Queen did fire her. And that she was proud of the work she and Ghost had done in order to get to here. If she had any qualms about riding her best for herself, she had none about riding her best for Ghost. The mare who had started out as a fixer upper was now showing at one of the highest levels of competition.

And Felicity was going to show them what the two of them were capable of. 

By the time they finished their test, Felicity’s heart was bursting with pride. Ghost had performed beautifully, better than Felicity had hoped, even. Their scores were top marks thus far in the event and as Felicity passed by Moira on her way out of the ring, she had her head held high.

Felicity stayed in first place as the next riders went and rode their tests. It wasn’t until the last rider of the class that someone bested her.

Naturally, that person was Oliver.

Felicity watched him ride and after seeing him do so, she could not argue that he had bested her. To her delight as his teacher, he had diligently applied the lessons she had taught him; never before (to Felicity’s knowledge) had Oliver ridden with such precision in a Dressage test. His geometry while riding was as close to flawless as she’d seen and there was no doubting that, though they’d both ridden well, Oliver had outmatched her. 

The next day’s cross country event was bustling as the riders readied their horses and brought them up for inspection by the veterinarians and judges. Felicity felt a surge of pride as the vet made a comment about Ghost being in extraordinary form. From a dull coated bargain mare to a top eventing prospect, Ghost’s transformation had been beautiful to watch. 

But as Felicity readied herself for competition, a shadow fell across the morning as Moira Queen appeared, tight lipped and angry. “Miss Smoak. I trust you haven’t forgotten my warning?” 

“It was rather difficult to forget, Mrs. Queen,” Felicity returned with contrived sweetness and a false smile. “But if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for the next event.” 

Felicity turned to go, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist. “I mean it, Miss Smoak - if you beat my son, I will see to it that your days on the circuit are finished,” Moira growled before she stomped off, leaving Felicity to try and piece back together the fragmented shards of her earlier state of zen.

Moira Queen was an asshole; this wasn’t news. Felicity had known what the costs would be of competing. And yes, it was entirely possible Mrs. Queen would make her unhirable within her circle. But if Felicity won, there would be no taking that away from her.  _ Someone  _ out there would want to work with the winner of a Grand Prix event such as the Kentucky Three Day. It was a gamble but it was one she was going to take.

Felicity wasn’t a gambler. But she was going to bet on herself today, damn it. 

The course they’d ride today was without a doubt the most intimidating one Felicity had ever seen in competition. The height and width of the jumps and obstacles was hair raising, many of them at the maximum for this level of competition. Remembering Oliver’s advice though, Felicity had walked the course forwards and backwards at his recommendation and to her surprise, she’d definitely seen what Oliver meant about finding more direct routes. She had a good sense of the path she wanted to take today. Watching the field of competitors as they lined up to try their hand at the course, Felicity mentally reviewed the song she’d chosen to hum to herself while riding to help her keep tempo. Oliver had been right - it was useful for measuring distance and finding a good rhythm with your horse. 

By the time Felicity and Ghost took off from the starting area, Felicity had found her zen again and she leaned into it, trusting in Ghost to carry her safely home. 

Felicity pushed herself as she never had before and to her delight, she could feel Ghost responding well as they took each obstacle at shocking speeds. Felicity had never in her life ridden a cross country so fast as she did today but she felt more in control and confident doing so thanks to Oliver’s tips than she had ever felt before. By the time they made it across the finish, they’d set a blistering pace, without any faults and Felicity felt so proud she could have cried. Ghost, to her credit, had tackled the biggest jumps she’d ever been asked for and had done so with power and grace. Even as Felicity cooled the mare out, she was prancing in place as if keen to take the course on again. 

By the end of the day’s competition, only one rider had come close to Felicity and Ghost’s score: Oliver. But unlike in the dressage event, this time Oliver hadn’t been able to best them. Felicity and Ghost took first in the cross, with Oliver and Widget taking second. As the overall points were totaled, one thing was glaringly obvious: the rest of the competition were competing for third place. First place was a two horse race between her and Oliver. Unless they performed badly or were eliminated from competition in tomorrow’s jump off, either she or Oliver would be taking home the blue ribbon and the six figure cash prize. 

To her surprise, Oliver found her in the shedrow after the cross country event had concluded, a wry smile on his face as he approached her. “You walked the course backward, didn’t you?” Oliver remarked cheekily and Felicity poked her head out of Ghost’s stall and smirked.

“Maybe I did.” 

“You did. Your time was  _ blistering _ . I saw the video replays of you two taking the ditch at the end there. That was one hell of a ride.” 

“I had some halfway decent instruction from some guy I know,” Felicity hedged and Oliver snorted, still grinning. 

“It shows. You kicked my ass out there.” 

“I told you I would.” 

“Don’t expect any mercy from Widget and I tomorrow,” Oliver warned and Felicity bit her lower lip to try and hold back a smile.

“Ghost and I are going to wipe the floor with you.”

The two shared a look and for a moment, silence grew between them before Oliver nodded slowly, his smile softening. “I’ll see you on the podium tomorrow.” 

For whatever reason, she felt a little breathless as she stared back at him but she pushed away the sentiment, giving her head a little toss before she answered him. “I don’t know, Oliver. The first place podium is pretty high up. You might not be able to see me from your vantage on the second place spot.”

His booming laugh in response to her teasing replayed in her head for long after he had left. In fact, it was still on her mind the next day as she readied Ghost for the event that would determine everything: the jump. 

When she had finished grooming and tacking Ghost, Felicity ran her hand across the mare’s neck, delighting when Ghost lowered her head and nibbled at Felicity’s shoulder as if trying to groom her. With a quiet giggle, she scratched behind the mare’s left ear, chuckling as she found a good spot and Ghost bobbed her head sharply in encouragement. 

“Looking good over there,” Oliver’s voice interrupted her reverie and Felicity looked over her shoulder to see him swaggering towards her, his nose crinkled in delight. 

“I’m sorry, are you saying you’re checking me out, Queen?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I meant the horse, Smoak,” he corrected her, stopping a safe distance away and patting Widget’s neck. “Of course, she doesn’t hold a candle to Widget. But she’s not a half bad looking horse.” 

“That’s such overwhelmingly high praise,” Felicity returned dryly as she adjusted her irons carefully, doing one final once over of Ghost’s tack before their turn in the arena arrived. After a moment, Felicity became aware of a presence on her left. She turned to find Oliver had passed Widget’s reins to a groom and was now at her side, patiently waiting for her to notice him.

Attention seeking. Typical.

“Can I help you, Oliver?” 

“Actually I was going to offer you a hand up into the saddle. Seeing as you practically need to rock climb your way up this giraffe you call a mount,” Oliver teased lightly and Felicity crossed her arms before her.

“Looking to cop a feel, hmm?” 

By way of answer, Oliver chuckled and shook his head, then leaned towards her. “I’ll be the poster child of discretion. Scout’s honor.” Felicity blinked at him as her lips parted in surprise, unable to ignore how her heart rate had spiked at the sudden proximity.

“S-Sure,” she stammered out at last, watching in disbelief as Oliver twined his hands together and offered them as a step. With practiced ease, he boosted her up; the moment she had her left foot firmly in the iron though, she turned back to him dismissively. 

“I’m good, thanks!” Felicity chirped, her voice sounding higher pitched than normal even to her own ears. Oliver smiled up at her, watching her intently.

“Try not to fall on your face, alright?” Ah. There was the sarcastic, dickish side of him she was accustomed to. But before she could formulate a snappy response, he added to it. “And for what it’s worth? No, I wouldn’t be opposed to copping a feel. With permission, of course.” 

Her jaw dropped as he raised a brow at her proudly then strutted off, leaving Felicity spiraling until she caught herself. Damn him, trying to mess with her zen right before the last leg of competition. Because there was no way on earth that Oliver Queen had actually genuinely just hit on her. It was just him trying to get into her head and throw her off before she rode.

“Dick,” Felicity muttered, collecting Ghost’s reins as she took a deep, steadying breath. She was going to make him eat his words. 

When Felicity and Ghost’s turn in the arena came up, Felicity poured herself into the ride, doing her best to ride clean and to ride fast, keeping her turns tight to set a fast pace. All the hours of work, the hours spent practicing, schooling Ghost on the basics, pouring her heart and soul into the mare to bring her up to a competitive level, studying videos of her own riding and critiquing herself: it all came down to this. 

Felicity allowed herself to focus solely on Ghost and the bond between them, communicating with the mare with subtle shifts of weight and minor adjustments. And by the time they reined to a stop at the end of the jump course, Felicity was grinning from ear to ear with pride.

They’d gone clean. And their time was the best so far. The crowd’s cheers echoed in her ears as she rode out of the arena and Felicity vaulted off of Ghost’s back, pressing a kiss to the mare’s nose as she went about cooling her out. Then Felicity waited on pins and needles as the rest of the riders took their turn at the arena. She found herself breathless when Oliver rode out, a determined expression on his face as he and Widget took on the course. Felicity was holding her breath with each jump, watching as the talented pair took the course at a controlled but fast speed. When they rode out of the arena to applause though, Felicity felt ready to vomit.

Oliver and Widget had tied her and Ghost. It would have to go to a jump off. 

Swinging back into the saddle, Felicity warmed Ghost back up in the exercise ring, watching in her periphery as Oliver did likewise with Widget. After a while, he steered the chestnut over to stand alongside Ghost and he shot Felicity a glance. 

“Looks like it’s just you and I, Smoak.” 

“You say that as if it hasn’t been between the two of us this entire time,” Felicity responded as jovially as she could with a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Then, taking a deep breath, she reached out and offered him her hand for a friendly handshake. He stared at it in surprise for a moment, then took it and shook it warmly. 

“No matter how this plays out? I’ve enjoyed competing against you, Oliver,” Felicity murmured, swallowing silently as he looked at her with a flicker of… surprise? Amazement? She couldn’t quite place it. 

“I feel the same way. I certainly hope this isn’t the last time we do this. You know how I love to ride...” Oliver trailed off, his eyes lingering on her pointedly. Felicity felt a flush of heat rise in her cheeks before she broke eye contact with Oliver and rode forward into the ring for one final time.

It was time to leave Oliver Queen and all of her worries and woes behind her. It was time to ride.

The jump off course had been readied for them and Felicity ran through it in her head. She’d walked it prior to the start of the jumping competition, though at the time she’d had no idea if she’d be riding it or not. And now, here she was, with everything riding on the performance she and Ghost were about to give. She took a deep breath, focused on the feel of her horse beneath her, and then, she did something she hadn’t done before.

Felicity put all thought of competition out of her mind. She blocked out the crowd, the judges, everyone except for Ghost. Focusing on the connection between them and the joy she felt at being in the saddle, Felicity let her sheer passion for the sport take over. And as she encouraged her mare forward, Felicity knew no stress, no pressure, no worries. She knew only of the childlike wonder of being aboard a horse, the power and the majesty that held, and she leaned into that happiness and that thrill. 

She felt each smooth transition as Ghost raced through the arena, her ears pricked forward with interest as she propelled herself over each jump with a degree of power and finesse that spoke volumes about the horse’s skill and the skill of those who had trained her. Felicity could feel it all from atop the horse and it was all she could do not to throw her head back and laugh as she guided Ghost through the course. 

When they came to a halt at the end of it, Felicity honestly could not have guessed at what their time had been, or if they had incurred any faults. But she hadn’t had that much fun inside of an arena in a long time and it was that exhilarating sensation that stayed with her as she rode out of the arena to loud applause. 

Once outside of the arena, Felicity rode out to the exercise ring and cooled down Ghost, trying her best not to watch Oliver yet unable to help herself. 

Oliver rode well. He rode with poise and precision, careful to keep Widget well collected beneath him. Felicity could see all the groundwork they’d worked on perfecting in the weeks leading up to today on proud display as Oliver took his turn through the jump off ring. His pace was quick but it was the perfection of his equitation that had Felicity watching him in awe. 

When he exited the ring, Felicity found herself looking not at the clock, but at  _ him _ .

In fact, she had no concept of the results of his ride until she felt someone else grabbing at Ghost’s reins and it was then she realized one of the event staff had come forward to lead her back into the ring. Looking around wildly, Felicity’s eyes landed on the clock and it was then she saw Oliver’s time.

He’d gone cleanly, just as she had. But his time had been slower than hers. Felicity had won the jump off, which meant she had won the third leg of the three day event. And by winning the jump, that also meant Felicity had won the entire thing.

She was officially the champion of the Kentucky Three Day Event.

The moments that followed were a blur as she accepted the ribbon for the jumping event, only to then be shuttled back out as the awards for the entire three day program were announced. Felicity found herself receiving the Grand Prix trophy while beside her, Oliver was awarded the second place cup. And just when Felicity thought she’d finished with awards she was paraded back out to receive an award for being the highest placing sole owner and rider. But as she was finally allowed to lead Ghost out of the arena and back to the shedrow, Felicity could feel the buoyancy of her victory beginning to leave her as a familiar head of perfectly coiffed blonde hair appeared on the far end of the aisle and began to bob and duck its way through the crowd towards her. 

Almost simultaneously, she passed by Oliver; since they were competing for the same stable, Widget and Ghost were stabled next to each other. Having long since collected his second place cup and left the arena, Oliver was already in the midst of interviews outside of Widget’s stall when Felicity passed by with Ghost.

It was as she did so that she felt a warm hand enclose around hers as Oliver suddenly pulled her towards him mid-interview, beaming at the camera and the surrounding press as he enthusiastically brought her into the frame of the shot.

“And of course, Queen Stables is delighted to have the Grand Champion and the Reserve Champion riding under our name. Miss Smoak here is a brilliant addition to our roster and we look forward to a long and prosperous partnership with her,” Oliver beamed into the cameras, leaving Felicity speechless. Just beyond the press staff, she could see that Moira Queen had heard Oliver’s words as well and the woman looked positively ready to blow. 

Felicity managed a few coherent words of agreement, essentially echoing whatever Oliver said for the remainder of the interview before the press packed their things away. Felicity fled from Oliver’s side as if burned and focused her efforts entirely on Ghost. She went over the mare with a fine toothed comb for signs of injury or strain, feeling each leg for signs of warmth or swelling. 

She allowed herself to be consumed with the routine, unaware of the passage of time as she prepared to bathe Ghost. With the mare safely in the crossties, Felicity also saw to packing away her tack before she set about simply rubbing the mare down, something she had found not only settled Ghost’s naturally more anxious nature, but also calmed Felicity herself. 

“What do you want, Oliver?” Felicity asked in a dull voice as she caught sight of him at the end of the shedrow, still dressed in his breeches and show coat. The buzz of her victory, though still real, had ebbed enough to allow her fatigue to crowd the corners of her awareness and now, Felicity wanted desperately to go back to her hotel and take a hot shower before she tried to figure out where she and Ghost would go once they were ejected from the Queen family stable.

Moira Queen was going to kill her for winning today. And while the day’s winnings would be enough to sustain her and Ghost for a while, even today’s six figure win wouldn’t last long if Felicity intended to remain active on the circuit - and she really,  _ really  _ wanted to. Winning the Kentucky Three Day Event put her on the map in a  _ huge  _ way. Now was the time in her riding career to go full steam ahead; she couldn’t slow down now. 

“You,” Oliver responded and Felicity rolled her eyes but refused to look at him as she readied Ghost for her bath.

“Well, you found me. What’s up? Come to hand me my eviction notice from the stable in person?” Felicity sighed. His little PR stunt after the competition hadn’t convinced Felicity of anything. Even if he  _ had  _ meant it, she doubted Moira would stand for keeping Felicity around now that she had soundly beaten Oliver at the biggest competition of his show year. 

She finished picking out Ghost’s left front hoof and she straightened, only to startle as she found Oliver standing at her side, his eyes boring into hers intently. 

“Absolutely not. I meant what I said back there, Felicity. You’re part of the Queen Stables family now. You aren’t going anywhere.” 

“I think your mother would disagree.” 

“My mother and I have reached an understanding,” Oliver retorted with a roll of his shoulders and Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. 

“What does that mean, exactly?” 

“It means my mother understands that if she removes her support from you - monetarily or otherwise - I’ll leave to ride for Merlyn Stables,” Oliver elaborated and Felicity felt her jaw drop.

“Y-You know about that?” 

“That my mother threatened to fire you if you beat me? Yes. I heard her talking to you before the cross country event yesterday.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Definitely not. And my mother knows that I’m not. Which is why she agreed to keep you on. And ah… she also agreed to treat you like the other riders at the stable which means your only job now is to ride - no more mucking stalls or teaching lessons to pay your way or any of that,” Oliver added sheepishly and Felicity gaped at him, thunderstruck. 

“W-Why would you do that for me?” Felicity stammered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to her, of his hand on Ghost’s flank as he stroked the mare calmly, his eyes soft as he looked back to her. 

“Because you deserve it, for one,” he explained, stepping closer still to her as his palm smoothed across Ghost’s withers and his fingers began to work loose the plaiting holding her mane tightly bound. “And for another…” he trailed, his features contorting into a frown of concentration as he kept working at Ghost’s mane until finally, Felicity reached out a hand to interrupt him. Seeking his gaze, she looked at him expectantly. 

“And for another…? What, Oliver?” 

His eyes bore into hers and suddenly, Felicity was aware of his hand on her right hip as he pressed himself against her, walking her backwards three steps until her shoulders hit the shedrow wall. His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, his other hand threading through her hair. She was taken completely off guard but as his lips moved against hers, Felicity found herself responding unthinkingly and  _ sweet jesus _ . Yeah. Eventing? Definitely not Oliver’s only blue ribbon sport. Was kissing an Olympic sport yet? If it wasn’t, Felicity felt rather certain they ought to nominate it for consideration on the next ballot because  _ holy moses _ . She’d never been kissed like that before. 

He broke it off as suddenly as he’d initiated it, passing a hand over his face as he shook his head, his eyes downcast. 

“I’m sorry, that was totally inappropriate, I’m an ass, I should at least have-”

Felicity never found out what the rest of that sentence was. Because instead, she grabbed him by his coat and hauled him back down to her mouth.

“Shut up,” she breathed before she pushed onto her tiptoes and resumed kissing him with as much (if not more) passion as he’d shown her just moments ago. Her tongue stroked against his, prompting him to make a quiet noise of surprise that had her smiling against his lips delightedly. 

“Mmm making noise? That’s a deduction for sure,” Felicity teased, pausing in her ministrations to murmur against his lips as she blinked up at him brightly. 

“Worth it,” Oliver returned sharply, his hand moving along her cheek so his thumb could stroke across her chin tenderly. Felicity felt almost dizzy as he kissed her senseless and when they broke apart for air, she’d almost forgotten that she was supposed to be thanking him for standing up for her.

“T-Thank you,” Felicity exhaled and Oliver smiled at her.

“I don’t think you owe me a ‘thank you’ for that, Felicity,” Oliver snorted.

“I-I meant for saying what you did to your mother. But I mean yes, also for  _ that _ … The...the kissing. That was, wow. Umm. Yes. Thanks for that. And the other thing. Just...thank you,” she murmured, her eyes falling from his eyes to his nose and then, inevitably, to his lips before she found herself leaning back in towards him for another kiss, this one languid and long and lovely. When they broke apart, his eyes were practically shining as he looked down on her and she couldn’t help the blush that spread up her neck and to her cheeks. 

“Umm… so that happened,” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling remarkably self conscious. Kissing her boss’ son was probably not a smart move. Especially considering he was also her rival. “What uh… what now?” Felicity asked hesitantly, more than a little uncertain what his answer would be. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be up for a roll in the hay?” Oliver asked brightly and Felicity felt her jaw drop and her blush intensify. Spluttering incoherently, she tried and failed to form words, her heart racing. Yes, that was a tempting offer but good lord, they’d only kissed, she wasn’t about to tumble into bed with him! 

“Felicity? Felicity I meant for you to help me feed the horses. Why, did you think? Oh, you thought I meant…? Geez. Come on, Felicity. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Oliver teased her, just as she had teased him months ago about the size of the horse he’d ridden. Felicity gaped at him, still at a loss for words until she smacked him lightly on the arm, shaking her head as she moved to grab a hose, repressing her laughter. 

“Very funny,” she muttered as she turned on the water, giving the hose’s shower attachment an experimental test. Oliver’s laughter trailed behind her as he approached her from behind. 

“Oh come on, it was a  _ little  _ funny,” he remarked, his hand coming to cover hers as he gently tried to assume control of the hose. Felicity stared at his hand on hers with a raised brow.

“I’ll hose, you can scrub,” she remarked at last, more than a little breathlessly. Oliver smiled and acquiesced, releasing her hand and grabbing up the bucket and sponge she’d set to the side. 

“For what it’s worth?  _ That  _ is definitely not how I’ll ask for your permission to do  _ that _ ,” Oliver assured her and Felicity lifted a brow at him as she filled the bucket with soap and water.

“So that’s something you think is in the cards huh?” she queried and Oliver’s features smoothed into a faint, soft smile. 

“I’m hoping so, yeah. Down the road, maybe. I’m kinda sweet on you, Smoak.” 

Felicity gulped as she finished filling the bucket, glancing at him as she nodded, seemingly deep in thought. Without warning, she pulled the trigger of the hose head and a jet of water shot out, catching Oliver square in the chest. He gaped at her in shock for a moment before his features broke into a devilish grin and he plunged a hand into the bucket and swirled the sponge around within.

“You’re so toast. I’m going to have you soaked in no time,” Oliver warned teasingly and Felicity couldn’t help the way her heart gave a little leap.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not already,” Felicity returned and the stunned expression on his face was only surpassed by the hilarity of him dropping the sponge in his shock. Felicity pressed her advantage then and unleashed another torrent of water from the hose that quickly snapped him out of his stunned state as he barreled after her and grabbed her in his arms, eventually wrestling the hose away from her but not until after they’d both been soaked through, while Ghost barely got wet at all. The kiss Oliver and Felicity shared after though? That was totally worth it.

\-----

_ Five Years Later… _

\-----

Felicity watched as the bay Dutch Warmblood and its rider sailed around the ring, navigating the cavaletti poles with ease. When the rider finally drew the horse up to a halt in front of Felicity, he was grinning from ear to ear. 

“I take it you’re pleased with that performance?” Felicity queried as Oliver beamed at her, quickly bailing off of his horse before he undid his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Definitely. Did you see how badly I was riding? I was intentionally off balance the whole time but Archer here never batted an eye. Compensated for me the whole way through. I think he’s got the makings of an excellent lesson horse,” Oliver remarked, patting the gelding’s neck affectionately. 

“Aww, listen to you, getting all excited about a good horse for all our little beginner riders,” Felicity smiled, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist as she beamed at him proudly. 

Since that day years ago when they had kissed after the Kentucky Three Day, she and Oliver had been nearly inseparable. Their performances in Kentucky had earned them both invitations to compete for places on the US Olympic Team. Chasing that dream had consumed the next three years as they competed against each other, only to wind up teammates competing together as they represented the US in Paris. Felicity had left Paris with some serious hardware - in addition to the gold medal they’d won, Oliver had proposed and Felicity had flown back home with a sizable ring on her finger. 

In between planning their wedding and riding in competitions, they’d also made the decision to leave Oliver’s family stable. They’d struck out on their own and founded Bloomfield Acres, a stable that catered to riders of all backgrounds and experience levels, with an emphasis on partnering Grand Prix riders such as Oliver and Felicity, with inexperienced young riders of limited means. Felicity remembered all too well the years she’d spent struggling to work in exchange for riding time and she’d wanted to alleviate that burden for other children who had a love for horses but no money to pursue that passion. 

The stable had been open for a little over two years now and while they were by no means the best there was, Felicity was proud of their riding outfit. Already their first young student to join the program, a young girl named Evelyn, had advanced to the point that she had entered her first competition and won a red ribbon in jumping and a third in equitation. Having lost her parents in an unfortunate accident, Evelyn was in the care of her guardian, who had lacked the money to give her the lessons she so badly craved. Evelyn had been acting out and getting into trouble, heading down a potentially bad path. 

Enter Oliver, Felicity, and Bloomfield Acres. Now, Evelyn was excelling, staying out of trouble, and pouring her energy into the horses. 

“Think you can tear yourself away from boring old lesson horses long enough for a  _ real  _ ride?” Felicity queried and Oliver smirked at her.

“Where were you thinking? The couch in our office?” Oliver questioned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as Felicity smacked him in open mouthed surprise. 

“I meant a ride with one of the competition horses, not  _ that  _ kind of ride! Good grief, Oliver. You’re incorrigible,” Felicity gasped in mock outrage and Oliver just chuckled as he snaked an arm out around her waist and towed her to him. 

“Yeah but you love me,” he reminded her in a low rumble that made her heart quicken. 

“Remind me why that is?” Felicity teased lightly before Oliver’s lips found hers in a sweet and searching kiss. 

“Because of my superior equitation and my quick wit?” he supplied and she snorted, giving his chest a shove as she broke their embrace and began to walk towards the arena gate. 

“Dream on, babe. I can kick your ass any day and I’ve got the trophies to prove it.” 

“Put your money where your mouth is then. We’ll do a jump off right here, right now,” Oliver taunted her, throwing the challenge before her with gusto. Felicity paused and turned slowly back to face him, a twinkle in her eye.

“And what do I get  _ when  _ I beat you?” 

“ _ If  _ you miraculously manage to beat me, you mean? A foot rub, obviously,” Oliver offered with a simple shrug of his shoulders and Felicity froze. He knew precisely how much she loved his world famous foot rubs. Damn him. 

“You’re on,” she growled playfully, marching back towards the center of the arena where he and Archer stood waiting, Oliver grinning from ear to ear. 

Some things never changed. 


End file.
